


Brooding

by AnonEhouse



Category: Iron Man (Comic), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Gen, Humor, Teambuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-19
Updated: 2012-03-19
Packaged: 2017-11-02 05:37:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/365525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/AnonEhouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve can't help brooding, it's his basic nature.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brooding

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

Steve's tired. Not physically, because it takes an awful lot to tire him since the Super Soldier Serum, but tired in every other way. He's tired of dealing with a changed world where not only is everything different, but people are different. At least all the people he's met so far are different. Trying to be fair, he supposes he really hasn't met a representative sample of modern America. There must still be people who take life seriously without expecting they're all that important, who get up in the morning and do the sort of everyday things that keep the world going without getting in the newspapers.

But even if he got to meet people like that, he still wouldn't fit in. Even without his uniform, he stands out in a crowd. People either give way for him, as if they're afraid he'll hurt them, which really... bothers him... or they challenge him, wanting to measure themselves up against him. Only the few really self-confident people he's met can just accept him. He's fine with Thor and Natasha and Fury and Clint. Bruce unnerves him a bit with hero-worship, but he hopes that will wear off. Coulson is creepy, but Steve thinks that's part of his job description- he'd met Secret Service agents during the war and they were all pretty much like that.

Tony, though... Tony just...all right, part of them not getting along is Steve's fault. Tony is annoying, but he's a genius and they're supposed to be not quite normal, so Steve should have made allowances. But Howard hadn't been hard to get along with and Steve had sort of thought his son would be like that. Howard hadn't made a big deal out of being rich and smart. Howard hadn't been all the time in Steve's face about how he was proud that he didn't bother to try to get along with other people, didn't respect anyone, and pretty much... Steve had better stop thinking like this. He's just getting himself worked up, and he needs to sleep so he can get up in the morning and go back to figuring things out. So he can be a responsible person, and get the job done. He can't afford to lose his temper and sink to Tony's schoolyard taunting level.

If he loses his temper too much, he'll be back with the incredibly polite people asking him questions about his feelings and how he's coping and... really, it's none of their business how he feels. Yes, he lost everyone and everything he knew, and now he feels like he's stamped 'Property of the Government' even more than when he was playing dancing monkey in USO shows, because then at least he'd thought when the war was over, he'd be able to be himself. Go do something... you know, commercial art, or something where he could earn a living, have a normal life, and even if he and Peggy didn't work out, he'd find someone, make a family. Be happy in a nice, sane, normal way. So all right, he doesn't feel all that great, but talking isn't going to change that, isn't going to make the world different, isn't going to make him fit in. He's just going to have to work at it until he gets used to the way things are, and can figure out a new place for himself. 

SHIELD won't want to let him go, but he's not worried about that. So long as they need him, he doesn't want to be anywhere else. And when they don't need him, well, by then he'll have figured out what he wants to do and he'll do it. He hasn't ever let anyone decide what he was going to do, and he doesn't expect they'll be able to stop him if he really tries to leave. 

So. Fine, he's not worried about anything and he's going to sleep now. He's not going to think about all the things he can't do anything about. He's going to lie here, and relax his muscles one by one, and he's going to think about what he can do. He can lead people. He can lead strong-willed people. He can take care of his team until they figure out they are a team and start taking care of each other. And with luck, he can work them around to taking care of themselves. Steve closes his eyes and counts sheep. He doesn't care if it's old-fashioned. The sheep jump over the fence. White sheep, white sheep, white sheep, black sheep...

_Steve was alert and content. His family was safe, all under his watchful eyes, all warm and close. He made a few soft, contented noises deep in his throat while they moved about him, staying within reach, where he could protect them, teach them, show them how to grow and become strong. One of them wandered too far, and he called the stray back, tucking him safe and close despite the protests and squirming. The stray fluffed up indignantly, but Steve wasn't bothered. He was warm and content and had his family. Fluffing was... actually cute. He wasn't letting go. This is his family. They stay together. No one strays._

[](http://www.flickr.com/photos/eclectic_house/6851399612/)

 

Steve wakes up, smiling at the image of himself as a mother hen. He supposes his subconscious isn't entirely wrong, and, anyway, it's funny. He showers, dresses and goes down to the kitchen, still smiling.

Tony is there, still wearing last night's clothes, which probably means he hadn't bothered to use the night for sleep, like normal people do. His hands are wrapped around a mug of black coffee, his eyes are shiny, dark and half-closed, and his hair is standing up in assorted grease streaked spikes. He doesn't look like a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist. He looks... like a fluffy baby chick. Steve grins and walks past Tony to get to the refrigerator, reaching out with one hand as he goes to smooth Tony's hair down.

"What?" Tony is really not with it. He reaches up to touch his hair, and then frowns at Steve. "What was that?"

"You're ruffled." Steve takes a doughnut from the box on the table, puts it on a plate and pushes it under Tony's nose until automatic reaction gets him to take it. "And you're hungry."

"I'm not." But Tony bites into the doughnut. He looks at Steve warily. "It's not poisoned, is it?"

"Nah." Steve leans against the refrigerator to drink a glass of juice while watching Tony eat. "You're part of my team. I wouldn't do that. Hey, I'm going to make scrambled eggs. Want some?" He grins at Tony's expression of total bafflement. This might actually get to be fun.


End file.
